


Jake: OBEY.

by orphan_account



Category: Homestuck
Genre: Crocker Tier Jane, Crying, F/M, Fear, Rape
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-12-22
Updated: 2013-12-22
Packaged: 2018-01-05 11:46:23
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,937
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1093532
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>“You’re lucky you’re so hot,” she tells you, voice monotone as she glares at you, red irises full of contempt. You cower under her gaze. She may be mind-controlled by an evil alien, but that bare, no-bones-about-it hate in her eyes goes deeper than the Batterwitch’s influence. You’re sure that at its core, it’s from <i>your</i> Jane, your best friend, the one you acted like a complete and utter nincompoop towards.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Jake: OBEY.

**Author's Note:**

  * For [deadcellredux](https://archiveofourown.org/users/deadcellredux/gifts).



> Thank you to stunrunner for revising this!

“You’re lucky you’re so hot,” she tells you, voice monotone as she glares at you, red irises full of contempt. You cower under her gaze. She may be mind-controlled by an evil alien, but that bare, no-bones-about-it hate in her eyes goes deeper than the Batterwitch’s influence. You’re sure that at its core, it’s from _your_ Jane, your best friend, the one you acted like a complete and utter nincompoop towards.

Your face is wet and sticky from tears and mucus. You wipe your nose on your cape again, earning you a look from Jane like you’re a fly who’s landed on cake she just finished frosting. She steps forward, and before you know what she’s doing, she’s seizing your hair and slamming your head down against the ground.

You yelp in pain as your skull connects with the hard floor. Pain blossoming from the point of impact, you clutch your noggin and groan as Jane steps off of you again.

“You’re disgusting,” she says coldly. You hear the rustle of clothing and you lift your head slightly to see what’s going on.

She’s stripping off her white socks. A dull realization hits you.

“The only solace I have is knowing you’re attractive enough that our children will be fittingly beautiful,” Jane continues.

You whimper and curl up into a ball, paralyzed by fear. You don’t know what to do; you don’t know if there’s anything you _can_ do, but the thought only makes you feel all the more powerless and stupid. It doesn’t help one bit when brain ghost Dirk reminds you of his presence with another unhelpful comment.

“Man, you’re acting pathetically.”

“Can’t you just disappear now?” you mutter unhappily, trying to keep your voice low enough so that Jane won’t hear you. Considering she keeps talking over you, at least it seems you were successful.

“They won’t be quite as clever as me,” says Jane as she neatly folds her socks up together, “because half of their genetics will come from the most empty-headed individual I have ever had the displeasure of meeting.”

“Is that what you really want?” asks ghost Dirk. “To be completely alone with her right now?”

“No, I don’t want any of this,” you sputter. “I want to go home.”

“SILENCE.” This time Jane heard you.

You start sobbing again. You fight to do so quietly, but even at that you fail miserably, choked noises escaping your sore throat. For a few precious moments, you’re left alone in your misery, but before you can even begin to calm down, Jane is over you, ripping your clothes off. The fabric gives way too easily, rending with each quick pull. She tears the ruins off of you - cape, then shirt and hood. Your cheeks flush with shame but you don’t bother struggling when she reaches down and tears off your briefs, revealing your limp dick.

No one’s seen you naked before, not even Dirk, and this isn’t at all how you imagined it going. You fantasized about being stripped bare for your first time out in a forest or a meadow or some other suitable outdoorsy landscape. You’d be with some beautiful, exotic girl or boy, soft grass beneath you, the smell of the flora and fresh rain in your nose. You never once imagined it would be a stone prison floor, nostrils clogged with snot, and your to-be-deflowerer a mind-controlled former friend who loathes your guts.

Jane shoves a cloth against your face, and for a silly, panicked instant you think she’s going to suffocate you. She simply wipes your face off. You don’t need to look at her again to know her expression of disgust hasn’t moved.

“Blow,” she commands, holding the cloth against your nose, and you do so noisily. She finishes cleaning you off but you know it won’t be long until new tears well up. She throws the filthy handkerchief aside and straightens up again to take off her pants, leaving her violent red garb on, the front panel hanging down between her legs but leaving her shapely thighs in plain sight.

“Get yourself hard,” she commands. You don’t want to, and you don’t know if you can, but you don’t dare say no.

You close your eyes and reach down to grasp your soft cock. You try to think of Neytiri, of her beautiful blue skin and deep, definitely-not-red-and-evil eyes. For a moment it works, but then you feel Jane climbing over you, and the image slips away.

The long trails of fabric from her garment brush your upper chest and your face. You feel Jane’s thighs on either side of your face a moment before your mouth is suddenly enveloped by her pussy, warm against your lips. Your hand on your dick freezes and you whimper.

This isn’t an image that’s ever appeared in your fantasies, much less do you have any experience with going down on a woman, but Jane’s ladybits are very much in your face and you know you’re expected to do something. You just want to disappear and your brain is spinning its wheels in the mud, stuck on wanting to get out and having no way to do so.

“Keep touching yourself,” Jane demands, “and cease making pathetic noises. Get to work.”

You blink back a few tears as you part your lips and blindly stick out your tongue. You always thought that ladies were supposed to get wet when they wanted to copulate, but here she is with her flesh smooth and hot and dry. Well, almost all dry; as your tongue ventures further down and finds her entrance, there seems to be a bit of moisture forming. It doesn’t taste bad, thank heavens – it doesn’t taste like much of anything at all – and you stuck your tongue in hesitantly.

Jane is eerily silent as you clumsily work with your mouth. Despite your terror, you mechanically pump your cock as ordered, and slowly it begins to respond. It doesn’t feel good like it does when you’re alone, with no sense of relaxation nor any pleasant fantasies to enhance the experience of raw stimulation.

“As my husband, you're going to need to vastly improve your skills,” Jane remarks scathingly, pulling herself off of you just as you finally manage to bring your manhood to a fully turgid state. “Your knowledge of female anatomy is paltry at best.”

You try to stutter an apology, but Jane barks, “SILENCE.” and you dissolve into sobbing again. Your eyes ache, your throat hurt, and your face feels as disgusting as it did before Jane wiped it clean.

Jane settles herself on top of of you. You can feel the slickness of her warm cunt pressed against the length of your cock. She shifts back and forth slightly, rubbing herself against you. You're terrified and really don't want to be here but you squeeze your eyes shut again, and can focus on that at least physically, it feels good. It’s a tiny comfort but also a source of further humiliation, that on some level you do actually like this. When the heat of her is removed for a moment, you yearn to have it back, and breath a little sigh when she grabs your dick and positions it upright. She slides her hips down in one efficient motion, fully sheathing you inside of her in.

“So you're just going to fucking lie there and take this?” Yup, brain Dirk is still there. You look over and see him sitting in the corner, watching you intently. _He's not real, he's not real,_ you remind yourself, but it still makes you feel ashamed. Yes, evil Jane is stronger than you and intimidating, but what the hell kind of sad little chap are you who can't even make an effort to extricate yourself from this?

“Cease looking at your imaginary friend.” Jane's hand snaps out and grips your jaw, forcing you to face her. She doesn't look happy. Even as she rocks back and forth and you can feel the muscles inside of her squeezing you, she's as sour as she was at the start of this whole conversation. Even when she’s intimate with you - in the Biblical sense rather than the emotional sense - she despises you.

“This is pathetic,” Jane says icily. “Cease sobbing and get me with child so that we can be done with this nonsense until you've acquired some iota of dignity.” She lifts herself off of you slightly and then thrusts herself back down. A tiny noise escapes your lips and she repeats the motion. Perhaps if she doesn't cease, she'll get her wish, and then you can be left alone for a while.

Yeah, you can be left alone in this terrible dark cell with no one to comfort you, except for brain Dirk who thinks you're a disgrace. Then again, who doesn't think you're a disgrace? You've never been anything to your friends but a disappointment and a fool.

Almost mechanically, Jane moves up and down on you. The sensation is unlike anything you’ve experienced before, so different than your hand, and it’s intense and steady enough that you’re starting to get close. Her hand is still on your face, and a small, insipid part of you tries to think of it as a sweet gesture rather than an insistent direction; having to look into her cruel eyes makes that an impossible notion.

Her breasts are bouncing slightly under her blood-colored outfit, but there’s no hint of pleasure in her expression. Her lips are parted, but it’s more creepy than suggestive. You quickly look back down to her chest and focus on that as you near the brink, all the while praying that nothing else unnerves you so you can just come and have this end as soon as possible.

A few moments later you come, and you groan loudly, some garbled name - you don’t even know whose - escaping you as you ejaculate into her warm cunt. As the sudden jolt of pleasure slips away, so does your weak effort at composure. At least this time you’re silent as the so-familiar wetness pours down your cheeks.

“Next time you’ll need to do much better,” Jane says flatly as she removes herself from you. You practically expect her to slap you; it’s almost worse when she just takes her hand away like you aren’t even worth getting angry over. As she pulls the rest of her outfit back on with business-like demeanor, you neither speak nor move.

Once fully dressed, she strides out without looking back at you. Your cell door slams behind her.

You feel cold and very naked. As embarrassed as you are by your current state, part of you wishes that brain Dirk was real so that he could fetch a blanket for you. Maybe even hold you. Anything to make you feel a tiny bit warmer and a tiny bit less vulnerable. Even though Dirk had been completely overbearing, he certainly had been attentive. But even if the bloke was here in the flesh, maybe he’d just do the same thing that your mental projection of him is doing, which was simply looking at you, lips tight in an uncomfortable, disappointed expression.

All you want to do right now is curl up in a ball and sob until you’re completely dried up and physically can’t cry any more. Well, in your only stroke of luck in recent events, right now there is no one and nothing to stop you. You close your eyes, pulling your knees up to your chest and hugging them tightly, and do just that.


End file.
